"I suppose it is not pleasant to be here now, but I feel as if I did not want you to leave."
Baard said no more; nor did Arne speak. He stood a while, then went away and busied himself with some work, as though it were decided that he should remain.
Later, when Arne was called in to dinner, Baard still sat on the chopping-block. Arne went over to him and asked how Eli was getting on.
"I think she must be pretty bad to-day," said Baard; "I see that mother is crying."
Arne felt as though some one had bidden him to sit down, and he sat down directly opposite Baard on the end of a fallen tree.
"I have been thinking of your father these days," said Baard, so unexpectedly, that Arne could make no reply. "You know, I dare say, what there was between us two?"
"Yes, I know."
"Ah, well, you only know half, as might have been expected, and naturally lay the greatest blame on me."
Arne answered presently: "You have doubtless settled that matter with your God, as my father has surely done."
"Ah, well, that may be as one takes it," answered Baard. "When I found this pin again, it seemed so strange to me that you should come here and loosen the vane. Just as well first as last, thought I." He had taken off his cap and sat looking into it.